Against the Odds
by neganised
Summary: Negan's wife Lucille is sick with cancer when the world ends around them in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. When he returns to the hospital to find nothing but death and gore, he is convinced she is dead. Months go by as Negan moulds himself into the fearsome leader of the Saviours, while the wife he grieved over fights for survival while attempting to track him down.
1. Prologue

The Day the World Ended

" _Keep fighting this, please_."

An all too familiar voice echoed in the back of Lucille's mind, nothing but darkness surrounding her as she tried desperately to pinpoint his face. But her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and it felt like somebody had placed a rock on her chest to stop her from moving. Cancer was a motherfucker, and she almost wished it had wiped her out quickly instead of yanking her through this long battle of drugs, doctors and machines. But more than anything, she wished _he_ would just let her go.

" _You can beat this if you just – try harder."_

If only it was that easy. Negan was smart, but he was naïve to think that there was any other way out of this than death. Managing to open her eyes enough to look at him, she sighed heavily into the oxygen mask that covered her pale face as he stroked his fingers against the palm of her hand. "We both know that's bullshit." She whispered, almost managing a smirk as he sat there by her bedside, hunched over with that defeated look on his face.

" **No, it's not.** " She felt his hand slide from hers, and in the next moment he was on his feet. He always liked to cause a scene when he was pissed off, and today was no exception. Even if it was her on the receiving end of his anger.

" _Negan_."

"You haven't been handed a fucking death sentence, Lucille, this cancer _isn't_ terminal. The doctors sat in here with **both** of us and told you that you have a chance! So stop talking as if this is the end, because it fucking isn't."

His eyes were dark and his brow furrowed as he snapped at her. She hated it when he talked down to her like that, as if he thought she didn't know what the doctors had said. Of course she did, but false hope didn't do anything to soothe the pain.

A forty percent survival rate – that's what they had given her. Negan held onto that figure as if it was _his_ life that depended on it, preached about the small handful of people who had managed to beat it and go on to write books about their _miraculous_ journey. Well, there was no miracle to be had here. She was dying, she could feel it rotting away inside of her with each passing day.

"I'm tired." She sighed, bitterness on the tip of her tongue as she tore her sights off him and looked out of the window instead. Lucille was in no mood to argue, Negan always needed to have the last goddamn word in even if he was wrong. That stubbornness he carried inside of him at all times was enough to drive her insane, but it was also one of his many flaws that made her adore him all that much more.

God, she fucking hated this. The tubes in her arms feeding her doses of chemotherapy that had caused her long locks of dark hair to fall out, the sickness that came along with it and the aching in her bones. She wanted to believe she would be okay and they could go home and forget any of this happened in the first place, but the urge to fight was barely in her anymore.

"You should go." Blinking up at him again, Lucille reached her fingers out to squeeze his hand when she caught sight of the sadness in his features. "It's boring in here."

"I'm never bored when I'm with you, baby." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his lips lingering there against her pale knuckles. "You think the nurses would notice if you gave me a quick hand-job?"

The sweet moment was ruined in an instant as she snorted out a laugh and grabbed his chin between her fingers. His arrogant grin made it impossible for her to keep a serious face, and she rolled her eyes as he towered over her and pressed a trail of kisses along her forehead. "You fucking pervert, I'm laying here ill and all you can think about is me grabbing your dick? You know what, I'm not even surprised."

"Grab it, rub it, suck it, fuck it – I don't mind which one you go for." He shrugged broad shoulders, dark eyes warm as he gently stroked the side of her face with his thumb. She was so beautiful, nobody else could pull off looking this good when sick. Sometimes Negan wondered how the fuck he had gotten so lucky in the first place, it still excited him to think she said yes to marrying him two years ago.

"I love you." She mumbled quietly, taking in a deep breath from the mask that helped her to breathe more comfortably.

"I love you too, always."

Hearing the handle of the door judder, Negan turned to glare at the doctor who strolled into the room with a clipboard in his hand.

"How are we today?" The man asked, his tone cheerful as he looked up at Negan and then to Lucille who managed a smile.

"A little better than yesterday." She explained, not wanting this check-up to last longer than it had to. Doctor Henry was good at what he did, but at the same time he was rough when he handled her. The last time he had put in a new IV, he bruised her and Negan was furious about it. She could feel the tension radiating off her husband as he stood by her bedside, those dark eyes of his pinned on the back of the doctor's head as if he was a predator waiting to strike.

The last thing she needed was for him to lash out and assault the man who was responsible for her care, and so Lucille reached out and gently squeezed his hand, bringing him out of that stare.

"Can you get us some lunch?" She wasn't hungry, the chemotherapy that burned through her veins had ate away at her appetite, but she needed for him to leave. "The diner across the street has those burgers that you like, maybe we can outside after this by the benches?"

Negan's face lit up at the suggestion, relief falling over him at the idea that Lucille felt better. Shit, _he_ was always the one who tried to get her eat – today was a good day.

"If that's what you want, I'll run over there now. Might even throw in one of those ice creams that you like, huh?"

"Processed meat?" Doctor Henry chimed in, his tone less than excited and his face twisting into a scowl as he sucked in a breath. "Not the best, I recommend the vegan restaurant down –"

"She's not shovellin' fucking rabbit food down her throat, doc." Negan interrupted, irritated that this asshole would even think about feeding his wife a plate of leaves. She needed protein, the good stuff that only meat could give her and he'd be damned if he was going to let this skinny prick insert his opinion into a conversation that didn't concern him. "I'll get you that burger, baby."

Lucille couldn't help but feel proud of her man, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't turn her on to see him so protective of her. She loved him so, so much. Reaching out for him, she smiled as he hunched down over her and wrapped her up in a tight embrace. His arms were like warm steel, clutching her hard enough to make her feel safe.

"I'll be back soon." He told her, kissing the side of her neck before he pulled back to smirk down at her. She was going to get better, he could feel it in his bones and that was enough encouragement for him to keep a smile on his face. "Take care of my girl, doc, she's a fucking diamond."

The doctor lowered his gaze to the side of the hospital bed, ignoring the comment as Negan strode out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"I'm sorry about his language, he can be – overpowering." She snorted with a shake of her head as he looked over the machines that stood by her bedside.

"That's quite alright, I've heard worse." He chuckled, glancing at his clipboard when he suddenly seemed to spring to life. "Oh, I almost forgot what I came in here for. The chemotherapy has been working far better than we could have predicted, and because of this the survival rate in your case has increased from forty percent to eighty-five percent. So all in all, it's extremely good news. If you're feeling better tomorrow then we can let you go home with your husband, continue with treatments and hope that in time you'll be cured."

Feeling her stomach twist as the words came out of his mouth, Lucille squinted her eyes and sat up to look at him. "What did you just say? You just said that the treatment's working, that I'm not dying? Are you sure, there's no mistake?"

Doctor Henry laughed at the questions she threw his way and leaned in to pat her on the arm.

"You're not dying, no. You never were terminal, but I can say for certain that you're getting better. Chemotherapy is working, and I'm not one for believing in miracles but you have managed to surprise me with how quickly you've started to recover." He shrugged, managing to talk her through it with a calm and collected tone.

Lucille was ecstatic, her heart was pounding in her chest and she wanted nothing more than to bound out of bed and chase after Negan to tell him the news. Oh, he was going to be so happy.

"This is fucking fantastic." She grinned, feeling tears prick her eyes as she clutched a hand to her chest and laughed. Really laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

"I'll leave you now, I have other patients to check up on. But a nurse will be here after your treatment for today is finished to check your vitals. Goodbye for now, Lucille." He nodded his head and turned to leave.

As soon as the door was closed, she let out an overjoyed sigh and pulled the oxygen mask from her face, tossing it aside as she carefully manoeuvred herself from the bed and stood to her feet. She was shaky but she clutched the IV pole and grinned to herself as she slowly made her way to the window, pushing the blinds aside to peer down to the street below.

In an instant her joy vanished and turned into confusion at the sight that greeted her. There were people running in the streets, on the roads and cars halting to a stop.

"What is going on?" She whispered to herself, narrowing her eyes towards the diner where Negan was going. She couldn't see him, but the sound of gunshots made her jump in panic as a police officer fired at a man on the road. Holding her breath at the scene that unfolded, Lucille watched in horror as the injured man limped towards the officer and grabbed him, biting at his face like a rabid animal.

"What the fuck!" The door of her room swung open and she turned to see a nurse storming in looking just as panicked as she felt. "What's happening out there, there's a guy eating –"

"Yeah, I know. It's an outbreak. We have to get you out of here, it's not safe."

"What do you mean, _an outbreak_?"

"Dead people are rising, and they're eating people. There's no time to explain this, we have to go now." The nurse grabbed at Lucille's arm, but she shrugged her off and shook her head.

"My husband's out there, I have to get to him." Looking out of the window, Lucille eyed the diner and felt her blood run cold as she saw Negan running through the crowds. He was headed back to the hospital. "Oh my god."

"Let's go!" The nurse was done waiting, she tugged her arm and yanked her out of the room. Hissing at the pain of the needle in her arm, she pulled it out and winced as blood began to drip.

"We have to wait, Negan – he's…"

" **Dead** , **he's dead**. The people out there are all infected, they're turning into zombies and if we don't get out of here then we're as dead as them." The nurse snapped, pulling Lucille along with her as they ran through the corridor and towards the emergency exits that would lead them out the back of the hospital.

"Don't fucking say that, he needs me!" Trying her best to pull away from the nurse, Lucille screamed out of frustration and felt something sharp prick her arm. Looking down to see a needle poking her skin, she lifted her teary eyed gaze to Doctor Henry's face and felt her vision blur.

"This'll calm you down, it's okay. We're going to keep you safe, it's okay…" His voice echoed in her mind, slowing along with every other noise in the hospital as everything went _dark_.

* * *

Negan shouldered his way through the crowds of people who were screaming in panic, not caring who he knocked down as he ran towards the main entrance to the hospital. He needed to get to Lucille and keep her safe from whatever the hell was going on out here, he didn't know what happened to the guy that ate the cop's face off – all he knew was that the fucker ripped him open like a starving tiger. That shit wasn't natural.

"Get the fuck out of my fucking way!" He growled furiously, shoving people out of his way as he sped up the concrete steps and into the hospital where he ran for the stairs by the reception.

Everybody was trying to get out or get in, nobody had any idea what was going on and chaos was inevitable. There was more of those things, like that animalistic bastard outside. He was going to have to barricade himself and Lucille into that room when he got there until the police department or whoever the fuck dealt with this situation.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Negan ran up to the fourth floor without so much as breaking a sweat. Being as athletic as he was as a football coach gave him that extra bit of stamina that worked in his favour. "Lucille!" He shouted as he shoved open the double doors to the oncology ward, dark brow furrowed as he met with silence.

"Lucille?!" He called out for her again as he ran for her room, halting in his steps when she wasn't there. Gone, along with everybody else who was on this floor. "What the fuck?"

Turning on his heel, he ran down the corridor and towards the exit when he slammed into a doctor, knocking him to the floor. Wasting no time with apologies, Negan lifted him up by his white coat and growled at him.

"Where the fuck is my wife, you better have some answers."

The doctor groaned in pain from the solid hit and gulped.

"The team of doctors took everybody on this floor down to the clinic, it has security locked doors so that the zombies can't get to them." He explained, wincing as Negan let him go and shoved him back.

"Did you just say fucking zombies?" He almost laughed but stopped himself at the look of terror that fell over the guy's face as he nodded.

"Yeah, the dead are coming back to life and eating people. We barricaded the morgue but there's so many of them, they're gonna get out."

A bad feeling sat in Negan's chest as he stormed forward towards the exit, running down the stairs as fast as he could without breaking a leg. He needed to get Lucille out of here and get her somewhere safe, even if it killed him.

Managing to make his way through two other corridors, he followed the signs until he stopped a few feet away from the clinic, brown eyes narrowing in on the glass panels in the double doors to see a face staring back at him. A face that wasn't human, not anymore. Blood was smeared against its face as it clawed at the doors, its eyes focused on him like he was a steak.

"Lucille!" He called out, feeling fear course through his veins as he approached the doors with no weapon. Eyeing a fire extinguisher attached to the wall by his leg, he yanked it up and off with ease. "Fuck."

He didn't know what he was dealing with, he didn't know what these bastards could do, but he did know was that he needed to get in there. Approaching the door slowly, Negan reached for the handle of the door while staring at the thing that wanted to chew his face off. Feeling the lock click, he snarled angrily as the door creaked open and swung the extinguisher at the zombie's head. A sickening crunch filled the air but it still hissed at him, trying to grab him with bloody fingers before he swung it again and saw blood and bone fly through the air. _Crunch, crunch, crunch_. Negan didn't stop until it stopped moving, glaring at the lifeless corpse on the bloody floor for a good minute before he realised where he was.

The clinic.

Lifting his gaze, he felt sick at the sight that greeted him. Blood was everywhere, coating the floor and the walls like paint. The strong metallic smell clung to the back of his throat and made his eyes water as he tried to stop himself from gagging. Body parts lay all over the place, bloody white coats and the robes of patients strewn across the floor as he stepped into the room where his wife had been taken.

He was speechless, not able to utter a single word as he looked around the room, feeling the adrenaline in his body begin to fade into sorrow. Looking down at a wrist band that lay in a puddle of blood, Negan's throat tightened instantly as the name tag stared back at him.

 _Lucille Arden_

Never in his entire life had he felt pain rip him apart inside as it did right in that moment, and God did he want to end it. Tears formed in his eyes as he scowled, teeth grinding together and hands balling into fists as he let out an agonising roar. They had taken the one thing from him that he loved beyond anything else in this world, and he knew then he wouldn't stop until everyone of those motherfucking things were slaughtered in the most painful death he had to give them.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read the prologue to this story, I hope you enjoyed reading this first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now to be clear, this is an AU story based on Negan and his canon wife Lucille from the Here's Negan comic series. I am writing a version where she did NOT die, but I won't spoil the rest of the plot for you. I want to keep you interested, and I hope I've managed to do that here. If you liked this then feel free to leave a review and to follow for updates.**


	2. Chapter 1: Leap of Faith

**Chapter One**

 **Leap of Faith**

 _Two Days After the Apocalypse_

A sharp scream rang through Lucille's ears, loud enough to stir her awake from her unconscious state. Hazel eyes snapped open and she gasped in a breath of air, blinking up at the dark ceiling above her in confusion as every sound in the room hit her like a freight-train. Hushed whispering, crying, clattering of metal, that goddamn awful sound of beeping from the machines she was too used to having by her bedside in the hospital.

 _The hospital_.

"Negan!" She called out, a migraine splitting through her head and her throat dry as memories of chaos flashed through her mind. People running, people rising from the dead and Negan caught in the crowds while Doctor Henry pumped a needle filled with something into her arm. **Bastard**. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Lucille felt her stomach turn as the feeling of dizziness seeped through her. " _Negan_?"

When she finally managed to look around, Lucille's heart dropped at the sight that confronted her. She wasn't in her room; she wasn't even in the hospital itself. This was a tent, and she was on a stretcher on the ground. Two doctors were handling patients around her, trying to calm a hysteric woman down by covering a hand over her mouth.

"You have to be quiet, you'll bring them straight for us!" She heard one of the doctors grind out in frustration, and Lucille realised then that _them_ meant those **things** that were responsible for killing the police officer out in the middle of the street.

"What the fuck is going on, where is my husband?" Ripping the white sheet from her legs, she threw it aside and clumsily stood to her feet. "I want to speak to that fucking asshole Henry, where is he?"

"Ma'am, please sit down – the drugs in your system still haven't worn off yet." The female doctor instructed, still trying to calm the other patient down as Lucille narrowed her eyes in response.

"I don't give a _shit_ about the drugs, I want to know where I am and I want to speak with Doctor Henry. I need to know what happened to my husband, and why I was drugged without my fucking consent."

The doctor sighed, letting the other patient go long enough to lean in towards Lucille, their noses almost touching as she whispered in frustration.

"Doctor Henry is **dead**. He was bitten and infected and chose to sacrifice himself so we could get you and the others here, as for your husband, I have no idea. If he was back at the hospital? Then he's probably gone too."

It was like being kicked in the stomach, and she couldn't help but lift a hand to her mouth in shock as tears formed in her eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry for your loss but everybody here is in the same position. We've all lost somebody from this disaster, myself included. You think I want to be here right now? You think I _want_ to treat you people when I could be out there looking for my family?"

The doctor began to ramble, and Lucille could see she was close to snapping as she raised her voice. But she didn't ask to be brought here, she didn't want to be treated by someone she didn't even know, let alone trust. Biting back the urge to cuss her out, the fragile brunette looked down at herself and furrowed her brows at the dried blood splatter that covered her hospital gown. Where that had come from she had no clue, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to find out.

"I need clothes and a pair of shoes." She told the greying woman, knowing she couldn't stay here.

"You can't leave." The doctor said almost desperately as she shook her head, terrified blue eyes glancing towards the exit of the tent before looking back at Lucille. "What about those zombies, they'll kill you."

Running a hand over her bald head, Lucille gulped back her nerves and nodded. "Yeah, maybe – but I can't stay here like a sitting duck while my husband is out there somewhere. He's alive, I know he is and I'm going back to find him."

Her eyes found the nametag on the white coat of the doctor, and she shrugged. "Now Daphne, can you help me or not? I would really appreciate it if you could."

"Fine, follow me." Doctor Daphne Arthur sighed, turning to walk towards the exit of the tent. Lucille quickly followed in her steps, bare feet stepping on hard stones and making her wince as they stepped out into the bright sun where she realised the tent was one of _dozens_ in a compound of sorts. Giant concrete walls surrounded them as Daphne stepped into the tent opposite the one they had walked out of.

"I can give you clothes, a bag and some supplies to keep you going for a couple of days. But I don't think you understand the scale of this disaster, the whole country has collapsed. We have no communication with anybody, there's no power, no anything. You'll be completely alone out there, and you're _sick_."

The concerned tone to Daphne's voice sent chills down Lucille's spine, and she almost gave a second thought into going out there on her own, _almost_. "Those religious whack-jobs used to always go on about the end of the world, it was bound to happen sooner or later I guess. An apocalypse of zombies, what are the fucking chances of that shit?"

Daphne collected up a water bottle, packaged food and stuffed it into a duffel bag along with a couple of other things Lucille couldn't see. She wondered just how she was going to figure this out, there had only been a handful of times she'd gone camping in the wild and every single one had turned out to be a disaster. She couldn't pitch a tent to save her life, couldn't fish either – that had always been the favourite part for Negan. God, she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms again. To hear his voice, to see his face.

"Where are we, and how far away is the hospital from this place?" She asked as Daphne handed her the bag along with a folded stack of clothes. "I need to know where I'm headed before I go back out there."

Daphne sighed, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at Lucille for several moments. "You're determined, aren't you?"

"What, you thought I was just bullshitting?"

"I don't know, I thought I could've talked some sense into you before you made up your mind. We have two ambulances in this camp, each take turns to go back and forth from the hospital to get supplies. Medicines, tools, whatever we need to help people. The next trip is in ten minutes, you can catch a ride back and have a look for your husband then."

Lucille nodded, a feeling of relief washing over her as she quickly pulled on a pair of dark jeans that were a size too big before pulling the robe up and over her head. "That sounds perfect." Sliding the grey shirt over her head, she then stepped into the boots that Daphne had provided and huffed.

"What if you don't find him, or worse – what if you _do_ find him and he's one of them?"

Lucille wasn't prepared to think about what if's, she knew Negan better than anyone. She knew he was a survivor, she knew he wouldn't leave her behind. He couldn't, not when she needed him more than ever, not when she needed to tell him that her cancer was dying off just like he said it would.

"You don't know Negan like I do, he's my backbone." She murmured, swinging the bag over one shoulder as she looked at Daphne before turning to leave.

"Wait, you have to take these."

Lucille frowned as Daphne handed her several white boxes of tablets, looking over them before glancing back up at her in confusion.

"They're chemo pills, Doctor Henry wanted you to continue your treatment and you need them. One once a day, no exceptions. When you run out, which you will, you'll need to go to the hospital and leave a note under the main receptionist's desk so we know when to stash them for you."

She nodded at the information, stuffing the boxes into her bag along with the other supplies.

"Thank you, you really don't have to do this." She said, sincerely grateful for the help that she had received, feeling bad for thinking of Doctor Henry as anything other than a good man. He really had been dedicated to getting her better, even when his own life was at risk.

"It's my job, it's what we do. Now, you better get on that ambulance before it takes off." Daphne explained as she headed out of the makeshift door and began walking down the long concrete path that separated long lines of different tents. Lucille noted the huge numbers of people who were here, it almost looked as if they had evacuated the entire hospital to this compound.

She could see patients with their families, hugging and talking with each other as she followed Daphne down the path towards the ambulance station. Seeing them all made her stomach twist with jealousy, if only she hadn't asked Negan to go and get them lunch from that stupid fucking diner. Maybe this nightmare would have hurt a little less. She was an idiot and she hated herself for it.

"Paul, Simon."

Her thoughts were torn from her own mistakes as she heard Daphne call out to two guys who were packing boxes into the back of one of the ambulances. They weren't dressed like paramedics, but then again they didn't need to wear a uniform when the entire world had gone to shit.

"I need you to take this girl with you, she needs to get back to Saint Thomas to find her husband. You think you guys could do that for me?"

One of the guys was tall and skinny, older too as he looked Lucille up and down before nodding.

"Yeah, that's fine by me." He grumbled in a deep voice, scratching the back of his grey head as he looked at the other younger man. "Let the girl ride in the front, Paul. I'll drive this time. Give you a break from doin' nothing."

"Watch your mouth, old man." The dark haired man who looked to be in his early thirties said, winking at Lucille as he waved her over. "C'mon, we have to go before it starts getting dark out."

Lucille quickly made her way over and let Paul escort her into the passenger's side of the ambulance, feeling nerve wracking butterflies flood through her at the thought of going out into the unknown. Looking out towards Daphne who stood with one hand on her hip, her lips curved into a thankful smile.

The doctor waved her off and turned to walk back down the path between the tents, disappearing into one of them as Simon climbed up into the driver's seat while she felt the back of the ambulance shake as Paul slammed the door shut behind himself.

"You got a name, might as well introduce ourselves before heading on out." He asked, turning on the engine as he pulled out of the station and drove out towards a large steel gate. They really had this place locked up good.

"Yeah, I'm Lucille." She nodded, leaning her arm against the window as they drove out onto the road. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of cars parked out in the middle of the street, some of them burning and then she saw the first one of those things. A man or what was left of him crawling on the road, no legs and his face nothing but a bloody skull with skin hanging off as he let out the most inhumane noises she'd ever heard. " _What the fuck_."

Simon followed her gaze and sucked in a breath, nodding as he sped past the zombie. "Yip, a lot more of that thing around here. Hundreds more at the hospital, so you think your husband's gonna be hanging around there huh? You got as much chance of that happenin' as I do growin' wings."

Lucille frowned as she looked at him, feeling irritation rise inside her as he knocked her hopes down. "He wouldn't leave, not without finding me first."

"Sweetheart, it's been two days since the first outbreak. Everybody at that hospital is either dead, one of those zombie motherfuckers or at that camp you just left. If your man _is_ alive then he ain't gonna be there, besides he probably already thinks you're dead at this rate." Coughing, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and sighed.

"Well, if he's not there then I'll find him somewhere else. If you had family out there, would you just fucking stop? Because I sure as shit am not." Dread filled her at the prospect of having to find Negan out there when she had no experience to do so, but she had to.

"You got heart, I'll give ya that."

It felt as if it had been hours since she first stepped foot into the ambulance, the sun was dimming across the orange sky as they finally pulled up towards the hospital. Like Simon said, there were hundreds of dead people walking around the main entrances. She felt her skin crawling and gasped as one of them began hitting the side of her window.

Letting out a scream, she shuffled towards Simon and felt her heart pounding within her chest like a drum.

"Sssh, be quiet." He told her calmly, pulling up a gun and placing it in her hand. "You want to survive, then you do exactly as you're told. You know how to use a gun?"

"Uh, kinda." She breathed as he opened the driver's side door, stepping out quietly as he tiptoed around the other side and stabbed a blade through the zombie's head. It collapsed in a heap as he quickly set off a flare and threw it as far away from the entrance as it could, the noise and the light guiding the others away from the ambulance.

"Move, let's go." He urged. She didn't have to be told twice as she scooted out of his side of the ambulance and out, running after Simon into the main entrance of the hospital as Paul followed closely behind.

"Your husband isn't here, darling. No fucking way." Paul whispered as he ran after Simon towards the receptionist's desk where supplies had been left. "The upper floors are crowded with the dead from the morgue, so are the stairwells. We boarded those off and the clinic is a bloodbath. If your man made it, he got the hell out of dodge." He explained, lifting a box that was filled with pills and medicines while Simon grabbed a box of needles and blood bags for transfusions.

She felt panic begin to rise in her chest, unable to think straight as she looked around desperately. "What the fuck am I gonna do?" She gasped, the gun shaking in her hand as her palms became clammy.

This was a disaster from the get-go, a fucking disaster.

"You're gonna come back to the compound with us, we can look for him later. Now let's get outta here before we become a goddamn dinner meal for those bastards." Both guys ran back out towards the ambulance and Lucille quickly followed behind them, stopping at the entrance to gather her thoughts.

Where would he have gone? Where do you run when the world is ending? She looked in the distance towards the forest that surrounded the hospital and her mind told her to _run_.

"Lucille, get in the ambulance!" Simon called out as quietly as he could as he jumped in the driver's side and looked at her.

Maybe she was an idiot, maybe this was a fucking insane idea, but goddamn it was she going to try. Looking back at Simon, she shook her head and followed her instinct. Hearing him bang against the windshield in desperation as she started to run, Lucille ignored it and sprinted towards the forest. Thankfully, there were no **walkers** headed the way she was and she made it through the first row of trees without trouble.

"Fuck, shit." She breathed, exhausted already as she paused to take a breath. This was it. She had made the choice to let safety slide in exchange for danger, because she'd rather die trying than sit around like a duck waiting for the slaughter.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for the follows, favourites and reviews of the prologue. I'm glad you guys are enjoying reading this story, I'm excited to continue this into a full blown multi-chapter read. There will be time jumps to speed up the process, and I'm hoping to shift the timescale of this story to around a year after the apocalypse started in the next chapter that will begin with Negan as the leader of the Saviours and hopefully end with Lucille's whereabouts. If you liked this chapter, then please feel free to leave a review. I really appreciate the feedback on my stories! Thanks. - D**


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